


Everyone has a type

by AnonymousWriting



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bisexual Stiles Stilinski, Brunch, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mention of bloodstain, Minor Violence, Mutual Pining, Pack Bonding, Pack Feels, Past Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:06:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22481734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousWriting/pseuds/AnonymousWriting
Summary: It's obvious Stiles is totally Derek's type. Obvious to everyone but Stiles.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Vernon Boyd/Erica Reyes
Comments: 16
Kudos: 313





	Everyone has a type

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this is in one go, so it is what it is. If you're worried about the minor violence or bloodstain tags go to notes at the end.

“Stiles, you should totally ask out our waiter. He’s obviously into you,” Cora whispered conspiratorially. 

Derek felt his claws pop out under the table. His sister was a godsdamn traitor. 

Stiles settled his gaze on the tall blonde man, now over at the booths by the window. To Derek’s relief, Stiles shrugged. “Nah he’s not my type.”

Malia cocked her head to the side and looked back and forth from the waiter to Stiles. “What is your type?”

Stiles grinned and a pink hue donned his cheeks. “Way out of my league.” Stiles laughed, “That guy is cute, but still close enough to my league that he’s just not doing it for me.” He met Derek’s eyes across the table and his blush darkened.

Lydia elbowed him. “Don’t be silly. You sell yourself too short.” 

“Well and he also seems too nice. You know I like ‘em just a little mean, Lyds.” From his smile it was clear there were no hard feelings between him and his high school crush. Still, Derek felt his chest tighten. 

“Hey!” Malia leaned over the table to flick him in the side of the face. “I’m not just a little mean.”

Kira pulled her back, laughing. “Don’t worry, babe, you’re just the right amount of mean.” 

Stiles rubbed his face and snorted. “Now  _ that _ is doing it for me.” 

Jackson rolled his eyes. “We all know you used to have a hopeless crush on Danny here, but he was the nicest guy in Beacon Hills High School.” 

Danny scrunched up his face. “I did kind of tease him a bit. But to be fair, he took advantage of my attraction to... um hot guys.” 

“It was a life or death situation!” Stiles cried. 

Cora watched this exchange from her corner of the table, but her mind was clearly plotting. She picked the next moment to jump in. “What about you, Derek? What’s your type?” she asked with feigned innocence. 

Derek kept his face carefully blank. “I don’t have a type.”

Erica, Cora, and Lydia broke into simultaneous snickers. 

Stiles chuckled. “What’d I miss?”

Lydia glanced between Stiles and Derek. “Just that this guy is under the delusion he doesn’t have a type.” 

Erica added, “You’re not fooling us, Derek. We all know about Paige, Braeden, and...” Her voice turned to a musical lilt, “who could forget-” 

Scott was tuned in enough to his co-alpha to know when his heart sounded on the verge of apoplexy. “I have a type!” he interrupted. “Allison Argent. And she’ll always be the only one for me.” He ended his declaration with a peck on her cheek. 

The table groaned, but Derek finally let out a breath now that the focus was off of him. 

“We get it, you guys are Twoo Wuv,” Stiles grumbled.

Allison returned a kiss to Scott’s cheek. “Despite my family’s business, I guess I have a thing for werewolves.” Then she turned to her other side and pressed a kiss to Isaac’s cheek. Isaac smiled like someone had just resurrected his childhood puppy. “What about you Erica?”

“I just like hot guys. What can I say?” She grinned at Boyd who raised his eyebrows in a ‘who me?’ gesture, but his eyes twinkled. 

Jackson scoffed. “Didn’t you used to have a crush on Stilinski?” 

Erica grinned wickedly, and Derek knew he should dread the next thing out of her mouth. “Just because you can’t appreciate him, doesn’t mean the rest of us can’t.” Then she had the audacity to  _ wink _ at him.

Suddenly the wolves at the table sniffed the air and stiffened. The humans had only to wait a few seconds to see what all the fuss was about when Peter approached their table. 

“What’s this? You’re having a pack brunch without me?” 

Cora bared her teeth. “You’re never invited to pack brunch, you asswipe.” Cora added in a snarled whisper only a wolf could hear. “You murdered our sister.”

Peter blinked owlishly at the Hale siblings. “I wasn’t feeling like myself. Could’ve happened to anyone.” 

Scott’s eyes flashed red. “You’re not welcome here, Peter.”

Peter didn’t deign to acknowledge him and pulled up a chair to Derek’s end of the table. “I overheard such an interesting conversation earlier.” 

Derek’s pulse rocketed and his mind froze. He couldn’t keep up with Peter’s manipulations, was always two steps behind. Right now all he could think to do was stick his claws in his guts, but his mother’s lessons about shifting in public were so ingrained he couldn’t bring himself to do it in front of the entire restaurant. 

Peter continued, ignoring the fact that everyone at the table looked poised for a fight. “Don’t stop on my behalf. What were we talking about? Oh, of course, Derek’s attraction to big brown eyes and people who are hopelessly smarter than him. Why, just look at Stiles over here. It’s obvious.”

Stiles’ mouth gaped, his attention no longer on Peter. “Wha-”

Derek’s embarrassment reached a tipping point. “Get out!” he roared. He couldn’t use claws, so he stuck his syrupy knife deep in Peter’s thigh. Peter didn’t even flinch, but the church ladies at the neighboring table screeched. 

***

“It could’ve been worse,” Kira offered. 

Lydia pointed a perfectly manicured finger back at the Toasted Yolk with deadly precision. “We’re banned from the best avocado toast place in Beacon Hills!”

“At least they didn’t call the police. My dad would’ve never let it go.” 

Boyd spoke up. “Hey, where’s Derek?”

In the chaos that followed the screaming from the other patrons, the placations from Scott, the extra large tip from Jackson, and the not so gentle push out the door from the general manager Derek had slipped away. 

Cora picked up the leather jacket lying against the hood of the Camaro. “He must’ve shifted. He’s long gone by now.” 

“Great. He’s so embarrassed about the idea of being attracted to me he wants to stab anyone who suggests it  _ and _ run away.” Stiles bit his cheek and stared longingly at the jacket. 

Cora shook her head. “Erica and I tease him all the time about liking you. Peter took it too far.”

Stiles’ head shot up. “Wait, what? He  _ likes _ me?”

Lydia patted him on the shoulder and sighed. “I thought you were smart.” 

He snatched the leather from Cora’s hand. “I need to talk to him. I’ll give him this.”

***

Derek knew he had to face Stiles eventually or skip town. Skipping town seemed immensely tempting right then.

“Hey sourwolf, I know you’re out there. I can see your shadow on the roof.”

Derek winced. No turning back now. He stepped into Stiles’ bedroom, as Stiles raised the window. “I came to get my jacket.” Without some pockets to stick his hands in his arms felt heavy and awkward, so he crossed them over his chest and studied the carpet. His eye caught the blood stain from last month when Stiles cleaned his wound from the witch attack. 

“Not just yet, big guy. See, the way I see it, holding your jacket hostage is the only way I’m going to get you to talk to me.” Stiles gulped. “And I really need to talk to you.” 

“I can smell where you have it hidden, Stiles.”

“Then I’ll say this fast.” 

Derek winced, bracing for the inevitable hurt. Stiles liked popular, fun people like Lydia and Danny. He couldn’t like fucked up werewolves who didn’t even finish high school. 

Stiles took a deep breath. “I like you. More than I’ve ever liked anyone. And I think you might like me too?”

Derek’s lifted his gaze to Stiles finally, eyes wide. He felt more defenseless than when he was cornered alone by the alpha pack. 

Stiles rambled on. “Because you’ve got the cutest little bunny teeth,” Derek huffed and closed his mouth. “And you’re smart and selfless and strong and dude, you know you’re like the hottest person on the planet.” Stiles cleared his throat. “After the nogitsune… well, there aren’t many people who get it. I feel safe with you and, well, I more than like you, actually. And I think we could really be something good.” 

Derek wasn’t good with words on a normal day, and right then he knew any speech he could conjure up wouldn’t do justice to his want and desire and  _ love _ for Stiles. So he took two steps forward, pushing Stiles up against his desk, and nuzzled into his neck. He hadn’t been able to do this since he carried Stiles to safety in the battle with the hunters. He was greedy for his scent, for his soft skin, his moles. Stiles stayed rigid, like he was afraid to move, and gasped, as Derek brushed his lips under Stiles’ chin. 

“Stiles,” he breathed. Derek’s moved his kisses to Stiles’ mouth,  _ gods his mouth _ . He moaned at the first meeting of their lips and tightened his grip around Stiles’ waist. Stiles opened his mouth, deepening the kiss, and wrapped his arms around Derek’s back. Derek couldn’t get close enough. He pushed forward, angling their hips together, and felt his chest rumble with an animal growl at the feel of how hard Stiles was. The kiss turned desperate and dirty. His skin buzzed where Stiles touched his back, his chest, fingers pulling at his hair. 

Derek was so engrossed in Stiles he almost didn’t notice the sound of the garage door opening. Stiles startled and moved out of reach. He touched his lips with his fingers reverently. “Damn.” He beamed at Derek. 

Derek dipped his chin and felt his lips rising no matter how much he tried to tamp them down. He sobered when he heard the clomp of the sheriff’s boots in the kitchen. “Your dad’s home.”

“Yep.”

“I should probably go?”

“Probably.” Stiles was still smiling.

Derek frowned.

“I should keep your jacket though, right? I need you to come back for it.”

Derek smirked. “I’ll take my jacket now, Stiles.” Stiles’ face fell, so he added, “I’ll come back for  _ you _ .” And kissed him again, quick and hard. 

**Author's Note:**

> Minor violence refers to a brief scuffle between Derek and Peter where Derek stabs Peter in the leg with a butter knife. Later, Derek notices a bloodstain on Stiles' carpet and reminisces about Stiles taking care of him when he was hurt. 
> 
> Brunch is the best meal of the day.


End file.
